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Interview: Bryan Appleyard meets Bill Clinton

Lonely, bored and looking for action

The Ritz. Turn right out of lift. Narrow corridor full of young men in suits on chairs. Secret service. Turn left. Table full of Coca-Cola and stuff. Turn right. Sit down at small table. Hand extended. “Hiya. How are you?” Bill Clinton.

I place two tape recorders on top of a copy of his book, My Life.

“You’re a two tape recorder man, Mr President, you and Steven Spielberg.”

“Ah, such a good man . . .”

Aaargh, no, mistake, I don’t want him rambling on about Spielberg. He can ramble, you see; it’s a Southern thing, it’s what they do in Arkansas. His book is a 960-page ramble — very readable, but still a ramble. And it was a lot longer. His aide — a bit like Toby in The West Wing — is there to stop me taking up too much time. So let’s get Spielberg off the agenda. Now.